


I’m Sorry

by reigningqueenofwords



Series: You’re Not John [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 01:46:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reigningqueenofwords/pseuds/reigningqueenofwords
Series: You’re Not John [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1413136
Kudos: 13





	I’m Sorry

It wasn’t that you were trying to be dick to well…everyone, but that’s what happened. You were miserable, so you took it out on the ones around you.

Sam was your room mate when in motels, so he got the worst of it. He heard you tossing and turning, or stumbling in drunk at some odd hour of the night.

Dean made the mistake of trying to play flirt with you like he used to. You’d almost slapped him across the face.

John tried to get you alone to talk to you and you’d stormed off. Since, you’d avoided the eldest Winchester as much as you could. That wasn’t possible in the car, but that’s what headphones were for, right?

* * *

Finally, when it got to the point where you couldn’t take anymore, you gave in. It was a cold night when you made your way out of the nearby bar. Pulling your jacket tight around you, you shivered. You hated the cold to begin with, and alcohol just made you feel ever worse. Hearing the snow crunch beneath your feet, you made your way back to the motel. You had one thing on your mind: Get this off your chest. Sure, you could ruin the friendships you had. Sure, you could totally piss people off. And sure, you could be going solo after this, but how you were currently living wasn’t doing you any good.

* * *

John sat up when he heard a pounding on his door. Looking at the clock, he furrowed his brows. 2:00. Grabbing his gun, he slipped out of bed and quietly moved to the door. He looked through the peephole and sighed. Opening the door, he yawned. “Y/N?”

Without a word, you gripped his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss. He was stunned for a moment before his hands grabbed your arms and pushed you away. You looked up at him, cheeks pink from the cold, hiding the blush that had formed. There were tiny specks of water where snow had melted in your hair, shimmering just so.

“I’m not him.” He told you, his voice just above a whisper. His eyes looked sad, but you read it as pity. “I _know _you miss him…but, sweet heart, I’m not him. You’ve got to move on.”

You scoffed. “Wow.” Licking your lips, you backed up. “I guess he was wrong.”

John looked confused. “What are you _talking _about?”

Running a hand through your hair, your eyes watered. “When we were living at the house, and he was helping me with my side…He asked if I love you. I didn’t answer him. I didn’t _have _to. Then, another time. He said he was sure you were eying me, too.” You chewed your lip.

“You’re _drunk_, sweet heart. Go get some sleep, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” He told you gently.

“I thi-I think I’m gonna go solo for a bit. Clear my head, ’_move on_’ as you say.” You shrugged. “I’ll pack up in the morning.” You gave him a small wave before walking out, feeling like you couldn’t breathe.

Once the door was shut, you let your eyes close for a minute, a tear leaving a cold streak down your cheek. Taking a deep breath, you walked back to the room you shared with Sammy and got to bed.

* * *

He figured that you’d be there in the morning, and he could talk to you. You leaving was the last thing he wanted, but you were in no position to really talk when you’d knocked on his door. He was up at his usual time, went and got each of you a coffee, and knocked on your door.

After a minute, Sam opened. “Morning, Dad.”

“Y/N still sleeping?”

He shook his head. “She’s gone.” Sam moved to the side, showing his father that your things were gone. “I was up at six to get some water, and her bed was empty.”

John stared at your empty bed. “She didn’t leave a note or anything?” His voice was quiet.

Sam nodded and got it from the nightstand. He handed it to his father.

_I’ll keep in touch, and in time, I’ll come back. For now, this is for the best._

_I’m sorry, John. _


End file.
